


Separatists vs Republic vs Neutrals…?

by Revenge_Hurts



Series: Stories I Might Never Finish [1]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: But they're adapted to fit this story, Clones, Don't have to know them to understand, I stole characters from other movies, cloning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-03-07 04:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13426401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revenge_Hurts/pseuds/Revenge_Hurts
Summary: It started small. Little things no one really noticed until something big triggered a series of chain events that both literally and metaphorically punched them in the face.





	1. It Starts

It started small. Little things no one really noticed until something big triggered a series of chain events that both literally and metaphorically punched them in the face.

For example, a few fewer droids on the battlefield. No one noticed when the Separatists seemed to be missing a batch or two when they launched their assaults. It wasn’t enough to make a drastic difference, just let a few more clones escape with their lives. Let another dozen or so walk away with only minor cuts and bruises. They all thanked the Force, or their good luck, or their Generals, but didn’t seem to dwell on it any longer than a few short seconds of cheer after fighting. There was still a war to be fought, and if they wanted to survive, if they wanted to win, they couldn’t waste time on contemplating the past and were quickly dispatched from one fight to the next.

The next change didn’t attract any attention until much later either: Ventress’s disappearance. It wasn’t uncommon for her to fall under the radar and not be seen or heard from for weeks, or even a month or so. After all, much of her work was assassination and espionage, and she was very good at it, so the chances of her getting caught or even spotted were low. After two months of radio silence, however, people - Jedi and vod alike - started to notice. As there were still more pressing matters, and Dooku was still making a nuisance of himself - per usual - there was no investigation or undercover operation assigned. The spies employed by the Republic hadn’t reported back any signs of her, nor any big attacks coming, so they declared everything fine. She’s probably just skulked off to some cave somewhere after how badly we beat her last time, one particularly energetic Knight exclaimed. 

There was a multitude of little changes that helped alert everyone to whatever it was that’s going on. The sudden fear of civilians, especially the young female humanoids, instilled in the Separatists’ battle droids, the decreasing number of attacks on Republic planets, the increase in security and defensive measures around Separatist planets, the quiet disappearances and assassinations (with slug-slingers no less) of many Separatist leaders, the confusion of many shinies upon meeting their General, the inside jokes and almost secretive way the very new shines talked - as if they knew something important that they weren’t supposed to tell, and the way it was becoming harder and harder to contact the Kaminoans.

Eventually, even the Senators started to notice, and it was then that the Council could no longer ignore the way the war had started going off the rails. Things were changing and they would have to change with it.

———————————————————————————————————————

“What do you mean we’re being put on leave?” The voice of Anakin Skywalker echoed throughout the Resolute. 

“I thought it was quite clear, Anakin, they need us back at the temple, and as things have been quiet with the Separatists they have allowed for the men to have a few weeks of leave while their services are not immediately needed,” came the exasperated response of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“That’s exactly why we need to be out here, making sure the Seppies don’t get any ideas. Things have been way too quiet for them not be planning anything, and if we’re stuck on Coruscant we’ll never be able to stop it in time!” Anakin was pacing back and forth in front of his both bemused and resigned former Master, trying to get his point across through wild hand gestures that enunciated each word.

“Anakin, the Council will likely send a team to investigate the sudden turn the Separatists have taken, calm yourself. I promise you, they will not sit idly by and let them attack unnoticed. They will find out what is going on, and we will put a stop to it.” Always the voice of reason, Obi-Wan attempted to prevent his former student from doing anything unduly rash before he had all the information, as per usual.

“Right, because the Council is just so good at keeping us informed and up to date about things like this.” Anakin scowled darkly at the floor, no doubt lost in his own thoughts about exactly what he thought of the Council and its workings.

“Anakin, please. It’s been a long deployment for all of us, the men and Ahsoka included. We could all use a break, and frankly you especially so. I’ve seen how these last few missions have been affecting you, and I’m worried. I know war is stressful and unkind to all, but you know you can come to me with anything, right?” The concerned tone in his Master’s voice did not escape him, but choosing to ignore it (there’s no way I can tell him about Padme, or what happened with my mother, it’s just too risky), Anakin just sighed.

“I know Master. I still don’t like it though.”

“I promise things will be fine. Now, let’s just focus on getting back to the Temple in one piece, and then we can unwind and take advantage of our much-needed resting period, alright?”

“Alright.”

Just as Anakin reluctantly agreed to their mandatory rest period back at the Temple, they were interrupted by Ahsoka poking her head through the door.

“Master, we’re on our way back to Coruscant now. We’ll be there shortly.”

“Of course, thanks, Snips.” Anakin nodded at his Padawan who smiled at him before leaving back the way she came.

“Cheer up, Anakin. When we’re back at the Temple we can go out to Dex’s and enjoy a nice lunch.” Obi-Wan smiled at his former apprentice, clearly excited at the prospect of finally getting a chance to spend time together outside of life or death situations.

“Actually Master, I’m kinda tired. I was thinking about just taking a nap or even just walking around a bit to clear my head.” Anakin suddenly realized what being back on Coruscant meant: he would get to see Padme again; for the first time in what felt like forever, he would get to see his wife. And so, oblivious to his Master’s careful hope for while they were off deployment, brushed off attempts to socialize so he could be with her. 

“Ah, of course. I understand, things have been hectic lately with everything going on. Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, all you have to do is ask, my friend.” The smile slowly faded from Obi-Wan’s face, to be replaced by genuine concern for his once-student. Anakin hated taking naps and almost never admitted when he was feeling unwell, preferring to deal with it himself or simply power through the pain.

Anakin felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving his Master, but it was quickly replaced by the knowledge that if Obi-Wan were to know what he was really up to, he would be kicked out of the Order for sure!

“Right. Thanks, Master. I’ll be in my quarters. Tell me when we land.”

Obi-Wan watched sadly as his former Padawan left down the hallway, trying to ignore the creeping feeling that something was very wrong: both with Anakin and with whatever was going on with the Separatists. But what it was, he hadn’t a clue.

______________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile on Kamino. . .

“That’s another one of those motherf*****s down. One less evil son of a b**** in the galaxy.” 

A dark-skinned human slammed down a slug slinger, although heavily modified and improved to the point where it’s almost unrecognizable as one (affectionately called a ‘gun’), chuckling to himself as he took inventory of his weapons and wiped some blood off his face. 

A much younger, female human looked up from where the gun had been violently placed on her desk to regard the man in front of her. 

“That’s good news, as usual, Kincaid, however, also per usual the order was only for their arrest, and not their execution.”

The man simply grinned unrepentantly, “true, but if you really had a problem with my methods, we both know you would’ve stopped me a long time ago.”

The girl, for she could be no older than fifteen or sixteen standard years, refrained from rolling her eyes and sighing, instead opting for giving ‘Kincaid’ a long, hard look to which he only responded by grinning wickedly. 

“Oh, come one. You love me and you know it."

At this, the girl did sigh, although almost imperceptibly, and smiled fondly, if a touch exasperatedly, at the man before replying, “Go, shower and rest. I’m sure your wife is anxious to see you.”

At the mention of his wife, the man’s grin grew wider, yet more gentile, and he nodded once to the girl with a mocking “Yes ma’am!” and carried on his way in the facility, humming to himself as he went.

As he left, the girl looked back down at the documents she had been filling out, and the list of the dead that she now added to. 

“That’s getting to be over half the Separatist leaders. We’ll need to initiate Phase 2 soon. It wouldn’t do for someone worse to come along and try to fill the power vacuum that’s forming."

At this, she motioned to a few guards standing nearby (all of whom looked identical to each other, both in their bulky armor and helmets and out of it).

“Contact Ventress. Ask her if she would meet with me later today. It’s time to start prepping for the second stage."


	2. The Gala

The Resolute landed without so much as a bump thanks to all the improvements that Anakin had made when he was stressed, in a bad mood, or just plain bored. Almost before it touched the ground, it seemed, Skywalker was disembarking and shooting through the doors that led into the main temple and away from the outer landing strips hastily designed for the Jedi in the war; conveniently close to the temple for the Force-wielders, but far enough away as to not allow entry to the clones. They were, of course, forbidden from entering, the same as any other civilian without express permission, from the council.

 

Unaware of the sad, but resigned gaze upon his back, Anakin burst through the doors and toward the main building of the Jedi Temple as Obi-Wan Kenobi looked on from one of the ship’s viewports.

 

“Excuse me!”

 

“Move!” 

 

“Out of the way!” If I’m late to Padme’s one more time, she’s going to kill me! As the irate young Jedi pushed his way through the clogged hallways of the building he cursed the people walking, in his mind, unnecessarily slow or suddenly stopping and choking the flow of foot traffic towards his destination.

 

I just need to show my face in the main hall, then I can skip out to see Padme but still have witnesses saying I was there. They’ll probably just assume I’ve gone out to Dex’s or something. 

 

By the time he made it to the main sanctuary of the temple, he had tripped over at least five feet, ran into ten bystanders, and cursed out everyone in the room, in his head of course. Twice. It had taken him probably twice as long as it would have if he had simply walked, like a normal person, to the temple, but, well, things with Skywalker could never be that simple. But he was finally free to go see his lovely wife, so he smiled at the few Jedi milling about and quickly left through a back entrance to go meet her.

 

 

“What?” There was no explanation for what he was seeing, Anakin was sure, because why in the hell would Ahsoka of all people be here? At Padme’s house. His wife. His apprentice was at his wife’s house. . . wearing a dress. A frilly dress. 

 

Padme looked up from where she was pinning the bottom hem so it wouldn’t drag everywhere and cause Ahsoka to trip. She was kneeling in the middle of the room with Ahsoka standing right in front of her on a small platform. Ahsoka, for her part, looked very uncomfortable with the proceedings and was continually picking at the collar and sleeves of the ruffly, sparkly dress.

 

“Oh, Anakin. Good, you’re here.” Without looking back at Ahsoka she smacked her hand away from where she was trying to pick a thread loose, “Stop it.” Ahsoka grumbled and pulled her hand away, one that was already bright red from where she had obviously not learned her lesson the first time. Padme could be vicious. Especially when it came to fashion.

 

“I was wondering how long it was going to take.” Anakin gaped at that. 

“I ran here as fast as I could Pa-Senator. We only touched down an hour or two ago, and I had to, err, report to the council. Actually, Ahsoka, how did you get here this fast? And why are you here?”

 

Pausing in her ministrations of her abused hand, Ahsoka looked up and rolled her eyes at her hopeless master. “I walked Skyguy. You know, like a normal, considerate person. I didn’t have to stop every five seconds to apologize to someone or help them pick up something I knocked over, unlike someone I could mention.” Here she stopped and looked pointedly at her assigned mentor who had the decency to look abashed. 

 

“And to answer your other question, I’m here for the Senator’s gala.” She considered for a moment then looked confused, “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

 

“Umm,” thinking quickly, Anakin decided to just go along with it. “Yes, of course. Why else would I be here? At the Senator’s house. With the Senator. At her house.”

 

Padme barely refrained from rolling her eyes, honestly Anakin was such a terrible liar it was a wonder they hadn’t been found out yet. Ahsoka just looked at her master, nonplussed. 

 

“Oookkkaay then. Anyways who are my escorts Skyguy? I was thinking Fives and Rex. Two armed guards are plenty. Not that I need any in the first place!” The last part was said in such a tone of exasperation and utter defeat you could tell it was something that had been argued many times before. 

 

“I told you before, everyone going has at least five of the best protection agents money can buy, you need at least a couple to keep up appearances. Besides, it’ll be a good opportunity for others to be able to talk to and interact with the people who are giving their lives for them. Just be grateful I’m not making you take half a squadron like your master no doubt wishes.” Replied Padme in an equally exhausted manner. 

 

At this Ahsoka looked doubtfully over at said master (who was looking profoundly more confused as he tried to follow the conversation) before shuddering and replying hurriedly, “You know what I think two guards is the perfect amount, we should just leave it.” 

 

Padme smirked and continued with her work as she addressed Anakin over her shoulder, “Thank you again Master Skywalker for agreeing to let your Padawan come to this gala. It will be so helpful to have someone with real experience in this war going. Not to mention the credibility she will bring to our efforts on this new bill being proposed.”

 

Snapping out of his stupor, Anakin hesitantly responded, “Of course Senator. I did agree to this. To let her go. To a . . . gala?” He was even more confused. When exactly had they had this conversation, granted he tended to tune out when she started ranting about politics (it all went over his head) but he was pretty sure he’d remember something like this. Probably. 

 

At this point, the situation finally caught up with him. “No, hold up. You’re going to a gala. A gala - dancing and drinks and guests - gala?”

 

“That is the general idea, yes” Ahsoka rolled her eyes.

 

“IN THAT?”

 

“No, in my robes. Of course in this, why do you think it’s being made?!?”

 

“YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO WEAR THAT NEAR ANY BOYS. I FORBID IT! AND SINCE I ASSUME THERE WILL BE MALES AT THIS GALA, YOU’RE NOT GOING! THAT’S FINAL!” Both stopped what they were doing to look at him, and from their faces, Skywalker could tell he was on very, very thin ice. 

 

“Skyguy, you already agreed, besides I’m a Jedi, what do you think is going to happen. Stop being so misogynistic and controlling!” 

 

“M-MI-MISOGYNISTIC?” He gaped at both of them incredulously: Ahsoka with her hands on her hips and an expression just daring him to argue and Padme glaring at him with her hands dangerously near a pair of fabric scissors. Prejudice against women wasn’t unheard of nor even uncommon, and both females were very outspoken against this issue on multiple occasions he could recall. 

 

“Master Skywalker, you did already agree and the preparations have already been prepared. So please, Ahsoka will be very safe and as a responsible young adult, I’m sure you can trust her to make the right decisions on with whom she associates with. Right?” Having kept a fairly even voice throughout her discrete admonishment of his sudden ‘change of heart’, by the last word she could barely stop herself from gritting it out between clenched teeth. This was a big deal both for her politically and Ahsoka socially (she didn’t get to interact with others her age very often) and she wouldn’t have stood for her husband’s prejudiced, male, overprotective attitude anyway. 

 

Taking one look at his wife’s face Anakin quickly backtracked, “Well. . . of course . . . I mean. . . if it’s all set up . . . then . . . “

 

Turing a complete one-eighty on her emotions Padme smiled genially back up at Anakin and took his nervous stuttering for an affirmative. “Perfect! I’ll have her dropped off at the temple when the gala has ended. Don’t wait up for her though, these things have a tendency to run late.” 

 

She paused and her voice took on a much more dangerous quality. One that just invited him to think of all the ways she could torment and kill him before he disagreed, “That’s alright with you though?”

 

“W-why wouldn’t I?” He laughed nervously before meeting the gaze of Ahsoka (who had been watching the exchange with great interest; Padme’s control on her master was fascinating. She must learn how to do that!)

 

“Of course you can go Snips, I don’t know what I was thinking earlier. Have fun tonight!” He tried a little too hard to be cheerful on that last note, but smiled and hoped for the best anyway.

 

“Well, thanks Skyguy. I will.” After a moment of consideration in which she tried to determine how far this newfound submissiveness of her master’s would go, she tested the waters and added with a sly smile “Oh, and don’t worry. I’ll be sure to only have a feeew glasses of wine, don’t want to be tripping all over my dance partner’s feet!” This comment allowed her to watch in amused horror as Skywalker’s face turned first deathly pale, then a violent shade of red as he looked frantically from a glaring Padme (say something I dare you) to her gleefully shameless face, before settling on a putrid purple shade as he obviously fought not to respond.

 

“O-Oh, that’s. . . nice” He said faintly. By this point, his Padawan was practically buzzing with excitement as she bounced on her toes (softly as not to disturb Padme who was still finishing the hem) from her discovery of this new freedom she was gaining.

 

“I’m . . . just . . . going to . . . go. Um, I’ll just go . . . tell your escorts to get ready.” An idea popped into his head. One that would allow him to protect Ahsoka from those . . . those . . . men. Without getting caught - hopefully. 

 

“That’s right. I’ll be off now. See you . . . tonight Snips.” And with that Anakin Skywalker left the dangerous confines of being alone in a room with two very violent women to set out to give two of his men a very special mission for tonight.


	3. The Gala (part II)

“Why do  _ I  _ have to do this again?” A very irritated voice questioned in a manner that suggested severe bodily harm to anyone who gave an unsatisfactory answer. The owner of said voice was standing on a short platform in the middle of a small room that had been fitted with mirrors on every inch of available space. The room itself was clearly once meant for industrial or militant work: all durasteel and hard edges, each aspect built for maximum space and minimum comfort. What was most eye-catching about the scene, however, were the formal gold and black robes the figure had donned. 

 

Silk and satin, embroidered with gold thread and shining ebony beads in elaborate figures, perfectly tailored to the figure’s shape, the robes were luxurious and fashionable in every sense of the word. One glance at the woman’s face, though, (she was most definitely a woman despite the very masculine cut of the clothing) could tell anyone who looked that she was  _ not  _ happy to be wearing them. 

 

“Because you’re the only one available for this mission, Kady.” The dry response came from near her feet where a  Dathomirian woman was busy hemming the bottom of her outfit, evidently undaunted by the barely concealed hostility the now named Kady was showing at her predicament.

 

“Kenobie is busy, as always, and most likely wouldn’t go out in public anyway.” She continued. “Kincaid is off-world and couldn’t go despite this as his appearance would definitely set off some alarm bells. Julia doesn’t understand emotions or social cues and can’t be trusted to accomplish anything in this type of setting. Penny is out with Kincaid and, thus, the only ones left are you, me, and Ben.

 

“I assume you’re not fond of the idea of sending Ben out, especially alone - even if you weren’t I wouldn’t let him: he’s not trained nor prepared for something of this caliber - and _ I _ obviously can’t go for any number of reasons.”

 

“Yes, I can see how that would be a problem,” Kady smirked. “Although, it would be pretty f***ing hilarious to see their reactions if you just waltzed in,  _ literally.  _ I mean this is essentially a ball, after all.”

 

She considered this a moment. “I’m going to have to dance, aren’t I?”

 

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Ventress responded sympathetically. “But while you’re there, make the best out of the situation and stomp on Skywalker’s toes a few times for me, would you?”

 

“It would be my  _ genuine pleasure. _ ” The smirk she wore could graciously be described as unnerving. She was quick to add, “I’m not wearing any clunky jewelry or some sh** like that.” It wasn’t a question.

 

“Of course not, even Kincaid wouldn’t be so suicidal as to suggest you should. Besides, it’s better if you seem less feminine. It will allow you to better evaluate your targets personalities and responses without them ignoring or acting differently towards you because they see you as weaker.”

 

Kady started chuckling at this. “That misconception can be ever so useful sometimes. You always get the best reactions when they don’t expect you to actually be able to fight. I killed this one mercenary once, a really funny guy actually, but the look on his face when he realized that I had kicked his a** was  _ priceless. _ ”

 

_ “ _ I’m sure. Please do remember, however, that tonight you will not be actually be killing or maiming anyone. This is an intelligence operation  _ only.  _ You are only there to determine if the targets will be a liability if made aware of our existence. Especially if they were to find out what we’re working toward. We need information to determine their most probable reactions if our operation should ever come to light.” 

 

She stopped a moment, seemed to mull something over, before impressing upon Kady, “Off the record, I need you to make sure they’re good enough. I won’t let them,  _ us _ , be hurt again by someone with false promises and fake smiles. It’s happened too many times, by too many people. I won’t let us be taken advantage of again. Make sure they won’t let them down. That is the most important knowledge you can learn from this evening. Make sure they’re  _ good enough for them. _ ”

 

There was no humor in her voice as Ventress made her request, spurred on by haunting memories of her past.

 

Kady’s response, equally cold and full of dark promise, assured Ventress of her priorities: “I won’t.”

 

With new resolve, both turned back to their tasks at hand: Kady smoothing down the folds of her robes while Ventress continued pinning up the parts that dragged. Although they both much preferred fighting over the overly complex intricacies of espionage and intelligence gathering, they trusted their leader and knew how to get the job done. Their unwavering loyalty, once given, allowed them to give their all to every mission they were assigned. They knew the importance of their work and, besides that, would do  _ anything _ to protect those close to them.

 

Humming under her breath while looking herself over in the mirror, Kady imagined all the different ways she could go after Skywalker. She may have been a little biased in her judgment of him; she hadn’t even met him properly yet. But she had heard enough stories, gathered enough intel on him when doing covert ops on The Orchestrator to know that she didn’t want him anywhere near her family. She didn’t want  _ him  _ to be connected to the man who was being groomed to take over what was building up to be a throne of bloodshed. To be directly related to the person who had slaughtered innocents in a fit of rage. Yes, she had done her research and done it well. She was much too paranoid and protective of those close to her to not. Much too cautious of letting people into her life to not vet them completely and totally before trusting them with anything. She would be damned if Anakin Skywalker was any different.  “The Hero With No Fear”; if even hinted at posing a threat to  _ anyone _ on base, he would be an idiot not to be afraid of the wrath she would bring down upon him.

 

Smiling at her promise, Kady continued mussing with the folds of her robe, suddenly anxious for the gala she would soon be attending.   
  



End file.
